Wet Wrinkled & Soggy Toes

Rummaging some old emails, I stumbled across this one I sent to a dear friend. And since my blog has taken over by a theme of 'Aunty & Granny' stories, I thought why not add another?

"Ah Boy was on his journey to find the purpose of life. As he was trodding along the Golden City he came across a plumber. His Ah Ma told him a long time once that Mr. Plumber was a rich and powerful man who built his empire wholly on pipe works. Ah Boy figured a man as successful as Mr. Plumber would surely know the answers to his questions. So he asked the plumber, "Mr. P, what is the richness to life? How does a person become successful?"

This man was not only well-equiped in the material sense. He was also a heartily fulfilled person. He was a man who understood what it takes to be happy with much and also a little. So the plumber said to the boy, "Come into my office, young man and I will tell you".

The man's office was not of the ordinary. It was an extraordinary monument of architecture made from the best marbles, pipes and displays. In the sunlight, the little mirrors winked and twinkled in chirpy friendliness. The man that stood in this wonderful fountain with yellow gumboots looked every bit magical with water flowing in and out of what he called 'his office'.

The boy was apprehensive. He was afraid of getting wet. Being wet can be very uncomfortable. The water can be too cold. Gets your socks annoyingly soggy. Makes your toes wrinkle and sometimes, gives you cramps. He said, 'But I don't want to get my feet wet. Do I really have to talk to you in the fountain?¨

The plumber looked at the boy with a puzzled face. He said very matter-of-factly, "If you don't get your feet wet, how are you supposed to learn?"

The moral of the story is: the first step is ALWAYS the hardest.
But if we never get our feet wet to take chances, we may never have the brilliancy in getting what we want. The first pain to gain is to let go of our comfort zone.
We don't have to leap into it. No want will force you to jump into either. Just take baby steps. One way or the other, you will get to where you want to go. After awhile your brain will clink into the right places and give instructions on how we can move on to the next level.

Be brave and courageous. Pray not for things, but for wisdom and courage. If the pants get wet, it will dry eventually. If you get cramps, move around a bit to get the blood circulating. Who says we have to stay in the water forever?"

###

This I hope I will remember when the time comes closer for me to fly. I'm every bit afraid of moving. Change is not particularly a favourite activity of mine. I've fallen here and there to wince at every thought of the experience. Thinking back [about unplugging myself from my roots] releases a gush of memories - how loneliness can nag; how big and unfriendly the world can be; why I like my food spicy.

We know no fear when we know no pain. But we live in fear when the memory of pain hangs on like a crab to a toe.

Trigger Happee

Given the opportunity of being armed with a digital camera - I now understand the obsession Carrie has. The power of being snappee crazee is beyond any thrill in the world. Unfortunately, being the shy gentile creature that I am, I have not explored papparrazi mode yet; therefore you will only see very roomy peopleless photos.
Nevertheless, taking pictures have not lost it's magical therapeutic prowess - it has transformed me from a 24 kid to a two-year-old toddler.
Check out the B&W on MableTV

Cheers!

the long & short
E&O; Penang; Oct 05

front row
E&O; Penang; Oct 05

Waterfront
E&O; Penang; Oct 05

Oceanic
E&O; Penang; Oct 05

mousse gets in your hair
Food Styling by Mable Tan; Photo by: Alvin Liew; 17 Nosh Feb 06

Eat Your Cake

There was once a girl who dreamnt that one day she would have something in plenty. But she didn't know what it was going to be.
She had asked her great grandma Helinski what it meant to want more but her great grandma Heli only said it was not so good to be greedy. So she tried hard not to be greedy but her dream didn't go away. So she asked her grandma Polinski and grandmum Poli said it is not good to want so much. The little girl was puzzled: why was wanting more or needing more so bad?
Surely it was good to have plenty of candies. Or plenty of money. In her household of eight, money was not always so easy to come by. The winter would bring winds from the north and shrink their toes to raisins; bring chill to their bones; and make fingers numb. Yet, both the wisest and oldest in the family said the same - it was not good to want more than enough. The little girl didn't know why.

Why is greed bad? Can it kill?
Probably. Greed has killed people in war.

Can greed cause suffering?
Certainly. Because the little girl have heard her aunty cry when she lost all her money to the cards. And because she couldn't pay the loan sharks back, as a price, they took her only son. And she never saw her cousin Alenski again.

But there have been people who had wanted more in life and good things came out of it.
Like Martin Luther King Jr.. He had wanted freedom.

Like Bill Gates. He created a revolution of technology.

Like Lorraine Hahn. She wasn't just a beauty pageant queen. She is now a world-class TV host.

Why is wanting more so disgustingly evil? Is there a line to draw between greed and ambition? Or are they similar? She had heard her Grandpa Kelkinski say that you can't have the cake and eat it. But so then why bother having the cake if you can't gorge yourself with it? It will only go to waste.

Little girl wondered but she found no answer to her pounding question. But she knew this: that if one decides to make chocolate mousse and she bought the wrong sort of whipping cream, it is disastrous to add more whipping cream to try to salvage the problem.

Because at the end of the sticky, creamy, sugary night, you will have 3 very large bowls of chocolate mousse.

And so, this is what my fridge looks like now: A stockpile of chocolate cream.

Any takers?

Everyday Sundays

Sundays are the 'almost-perfect' creation of God. Sunday is a half-baked perfection only because you know tomorrow it's the beginning of long working week. And before your bones are all relaxed and chillin', Monday has its foot at the door ready to trip you.

A complete Sunday is when the sheets are gently welcoming, the curtains are slightly dancing and you find that it's steadily pouring - not half as heavy as a downpour where the puddles muddles your brains but just enough of sunshine to put a smile in your eyes.

My idea of an 'Forever Sunday' is:
1. Hogging the newspaper to myself for two hours in the garden.
2. Watching the kids in front of the TV with cornflakes in their hair (and everything else within a 2-metre radius).
3. Having a guffaw or two with mom and dad about something silly they did.
4. Slurping down a bowl of home-made noodles freshly made by a home-chef. Who needs a celebrity title when you have a domestic goddess at home?
5. Having a conversation with a 15-month old baby. (I talk economics and she replies in politics.)
6. Not thinking about work and deadlines.

I wish it could a Forever Sunday Everyday.

Word Bulb

"We have celebrated our country's independance, but when will we celebrate ours?"

- Separation 40, KLPAC, October 2nd 2005

What's My Mojo?

The answer of Fortune lies in a mere few question of When. For example:
WHEN will we strike an Arab vein and dance in (black sticky) gold.
WHEN will our names result a search of 350,000 million more than "Britney+Spears+baby+boy" on Google.com.
WHEN will the long thread of longing pining suitors arrive at our front doors and sweep us off our size 8 feets into the blood red sunset.

There are not many questions to ask a fortune teller other than fortune, fame and love.

But isn't there anything else we want to know about this world? Like for example:

1. When the world come to an end and How?
2. Will aliens take over the world?
3. Will Bart Simpson ever grow old?
4. Will Bill Gates sign off his bank account to Africa at his last breath?
5. Will Ozzie ever have the chance to be called 'up upper'?
6. Will penguins fly?
7. Will cars fly?
8. Will it snow in this continent?
9. Will I be an Indian princess in my next life?
10. Most of all, I want to know: Will I have Brad Pitt, George Clooney and Gilliebean feed me sweet juicy seedless grapes in this life?

So ahem... What will you ask?

Work Block

It's off hours at work. I'm here because I haven't got anywhere else to go but home. And home is not where I want to be at right now. You see, it can get a little crowded in The Menagerie.

So the question for today is: Is there such a thing as fate or destiny? And if there is, is there a way to change it?

Have you heard of the story of... uhm... er... whathisname... *sighs*... okay let's call him Bob? It's a very generic name. Like LiquidPaper. Anyways.
Bob was a scholar back in the old China days. So long ago even before the Great Wall was up the Chinese arse. When he was a young man, he worked on the farm with his family. His dad was a chief executive farmer. His mom was the deputee chair-farmee, his elder brother was the assistant farmee manager. And Bob was just another chink working his way up the farming ladder.

On the way home after a day of hard sweaty labour, he met a long white bearded crooked bent old man. And for some strange freaky reason, all long white bearded crooked bent old men in China in that century were occult and astrology masters. This long white bearded crooked bent old man told him that one day, despite his poor farmee status, he would one day be a great scholar of China. So great that the prime minister would kow tow to him. So great that the Emperor would seek his advice in good gold digging days. But despite his greatness and his fortune, he will die of an early age (say around 40?) without an heir.

And I ask this of you: What good is all greatness and fortune without family and love?

Nothing.

Bob thought to himself: It's almost fortunate and unfortunate hearing the prophecy. But the long white bearded crooked bent old man was just being a good kepoh nose digger. He thanked the long white bearded crooked bent old man and went on his way. And indeed, Bob went on his way to become a great scholar. He took that year's government examination like all good Chinese boys did at his age and he passed with amazing colours! As splendid as it is on a rainbow. And every year from then on, he received much fortune and respect of China.

Up till his 30th birthday he had been everything the long white bearded crooked bent old man had predicted him to be. As a thin line of HuangHe (Yellow) river trickled down his pants he realised that he had only 10 more good years of life to go. So he decided to visit another long white bearded crooked bent old man to see if he had any advice on how he can counter his fate. His destiny. This long white bearded crooked bent old man was also an occult and astrology specialist but unlike the other, he knew as much as there is little you can possibly do to change the lines on your palms, you can do something with your karma (def.: cause and effect. Universal power balance-o-meter of Good & Evil).

So he advised Bob to do more charity. Sincere welfare projects. Heartfelt goodness to fill the void of this sad little selfish planet. And the more Bob delivered, the less he thought about himself and the more he wanted to touch lives no matter how long he lived. Yes, Bob became the first Chinese Santa's helper (Go Bob!). As years passed, he met the love of his life, had a child and lived till 100 and died with a full and satisfied well-spent heart.

The moral of the story is: Don't trust every long white bearded crooked bent old man you meet on the road. Mom's word: Don't talk to strangers.

That's not all: Life is not destined or written in the stars. It's not written in some book of Fate in the high heavens. What you do with your life, is your choice. Good befalls those who do good. Bad befalls those who smell like rotten eggs. Cliche on the way: 'Live a good, honorable life. Then when you get older and think back, you'll be able to enjoy it a second time.'

A month later...

and the cursor blinks at me. and blinks. and blinks. and blinks.
well, i've almost given up on blogging. and i have perfectly good reasons why i should. just that ... i don't want to hurt your eyes too much with my whining. it takes tremendous effort to pull a straight face at someone's whining. i know. so i won't do it to you because i'm far too kind. so since you don't have to put with my whining, you'll have to tolerate my gloating.
nyahahaha...

well, all that is really brilliant except that i don't really have much to gloat about.

so this is what a plog suppose to be. a blog with pictures right. except i've screwed up the fact that i have an slr and it takes money and time to process the film and that usually spells disaster because i don't have time and i don't have money.

i did have plenty to say. truly. really. sincerely. everytime something occurs, i'd think, 'whoa this would be interesting to blog about'. but i never do. of course i don't. or else you'd be reading it by now. and i'll be famous for it. HA HA HA!.

oh so here's a weak attempt:
"you know the story about the running frogs? there are like 100 little frogs that goes on a marathon (yes, i'm quite aware they 'hop' not 'jog' thank you but hear me out). so the big frogs go, 'you can't do it, you're not meant to run. you'll have cramps. you'll have ugly jogger thighs. you won't be able to jump for life.' and after an inch or so (because they're really tiny alright?), 50 falls back - partly because it's hot and another because they've thought it over about how right the big frogs are. After another inch, as the sun rages on, another 25 frogs decided to give up. And slowly there were only 10 little frogs left. Soon the rest falls back and there was just one very sweaty, puffy and tired frog. But he ran and ran and ran until he reached the peak of the hill (oh, i forget that there's a hill). So anyway, as he nears the finishing line, the big frogs and 99 little frogs doesn't cheer him on but tells him: 'Stop! there's no way you can make!' 'You're going to get a cardiac arrest!' 'You're tearing your muscles apart!' 'You're not made to run!' 'Don't ruin your bright future!' 'What are you trying to prove?!'. But the little frog runs and runs and runs and finally, at the breaking point, he passes the finishing line. he won the marathon that he wasn't meant to win!

so why? why did this little frog win the race he shouldn't? was he a rebel? a show-off? a wannabe?

not really. it's just hard to hear all that voices when you're deaf. totally.

so anyway, here's another one:
we bought my car in 2003. and though it's certainly nothing to shout about it's enough for me to reach point Z. now, the best part about this very simple automobile is that it's been made to think like a lancer. yes it's louder than a lancer but no one said it had to sound like one. so anyway, its good enough for me that it thinks. you can tell the previous owner loved it to bits. gave it every piece of tender loving care it ever needed. the works man. i don't know what he did, but i'm sure this guy sat his mechanic down and said, 'listen, don't tell me what you can't do, but tell me what you can'. and they did a good job.
so anyway, he must have outgrown his toy because it's now mine. and my mechanic certainly doesn't know that it has a mind of a better car. so he makes it think and tinkle like its a very ordinary type b car. not a hotstud. but an ordinary oatmeal muffin.
i know nuts and bolts about cars. but i sure can feel them. everytime i send my baby for a service it goes crying because it's being torn down and brainwashed. now, i drive the poor dear, it's like 'an-every-other-car'. forced to be something ordinary even if it was never. broken dreams.

the point and morale of today's long and lengthy blog is that - don't bug me about not writing because you'd get philosophy crap like this.

no. of course that isn't all.

what i've been meaning to say is, as we grow up, we also grow apart from our dreams because there are voices who persistently tells us that we cannot do what we want to do most. the saddest part is as much as there will always be voices to drown our hopes and dreams, most of the time it's not the society who tells us this but ourselves. And even if we had the courage to overcome these big bad inner voices, there will always be someone like the mechanic who with the best intentions even, may ruin the rest of our potential greatness.

so don't ever EVER tell anyone - Don't. Can't. Won't. Shouldn't.

because as much as you care about them, crippling them is a bigger ghastly mistake.

have a good night thinking about it. cheers.

Fig Fag Foot

When my friend was seven her dad told her that all words starting with 'F' was bad. So when her teacher wrote 'Farmer' on the blackboard she stated lecturing her teacher on the evils of swearing.

And she was sent to detention.

She never stopped swearing ever since.

Age Defenceless

While I was waiting for my CDs to burn I got talking to a make-up artist of whom I am on friendly terms with.

JO: "Eh eh, you've changed alot since I know you ah."
ME: "But Jo, I've only known you for six months."
JO: "Yalar, but can see the difference mah."
ME: "What? You mean I've put on alot of weight?"
JO: "Yalar."
ME: "Shit, Jo, I know but the funny thing is I weigh the same as I did last year."
JO: *pause to think* "Oh, like that ah... how old are you?"
ME: "24 going to 25. Why?"
JO: "Oh... you're aging."
ME: (OMFG! Thanks for the blardy honesty) "Shit, really ah? Then how?"
JO: "Don't worry. Things will get better."
ME: "Oh great, really? How does it?"
JO: "You accept it lor. Can't change already mah."
ME: (# #)*

To Jo, the best make-up guru I know but shit hell you're ruthless.

BoB

My colleague was having shoot today and I had my own business at the studio. There was a congregration of models by the make-up room having lunch. Some of them beautiful, most of them not. One particularly beautiful male strut next to me (of which we shall christen him as 'Bob' - 'Bold oh-so Beautiful'):

BOB: "Where's your accent from?"
ME: "Er ... Malaysia?"
BOB: "But it sounds like you got it from somewhere? Did you study overseas?"
ME: "Australia for two years doesn't give me a reason to have one."
BOB: "Well, it sounds kinda mixed."
ME: "You have an accent. You are of mixed parentage?"
BOB: "I'm mixed Italian with yada yada yada yada. (Pause) Are you mix?"
ME: (- -)* (Yes, you beautiful but stupid man, I'm Japanese American Australian Hokkien) "No."
BOB: "Hey, does this PC (though it's a MAC) go online?
ME: "Yes, it does. Do you need to use it?" (Sure, go right ahead while I stand aside and let you dwiddle with the computer eventhough I have 5 more CDs of work to burn.)
BOB: "I just want to show you my pictures."
ME: "There's no need. I know what you look like already." (At this point I think I might have crushed his ego like a bulldozer)
BOB: *fiddle *fiddle *fiddle* "Oh, can't get through the link. Hold on, there's another way... I know this sounds vain but google me."
ME: (*_*) *steps away from BoB before given the opportunity to strangle his slender fragile neck and be charged for homicide*

Models may be good-lookers and probably not-so-dumb but GAWD do they have the ego the size of Texas.

Time to upgrade my dozer.

YUM YEE SHUN, YUM!

Honestly, I can't be any lazier than this. I'll post 'em up rightfully and properly when ... er... I'm... er... in the editing mood. Enjoy the pictures, apologies for not being... er... too detailed. It was a good wedding. Too much fun was had to concentrate on accuracy. ;-)
To Ai Hoon and Yanti: Wish you were both there. Just wasn't the same without you.


Yee Shun's Wedding (June 2005)

Drink up!

Congrats to the blushin' bride and proud new groom. Thanks for the great party!


Yee Shun's Wedding (June, 2005)

All Smiles :-D

ekekeke... Ahh... it was so nice to see Kok Hoe, Mei Lee, Mei Yee and... and... uhm... er... *memory fading* uhm... all my friends again.

Exhibit 1: Couple A

... and my personal favourite. Comes with matching smiles too! Simple GOR-geousss y'know. (I'm betting my flippers that they're next *crossing fingers*).

Exhibit 3: Couple C

Yo give way to Timothy and Celina. :) Such cuties.

Excibit 2: Couple B

Exhibit 4: Couple D

Gone fishin'

Hungry man is an angry man

Diggin summore

Dong Dong Chang!

They'd put on an excellent show at the wedding. I've never seen anything quite like it. I mean it was pretty weird at the beginning but really, got to give them credit for an excellent food presentation. Costumes and props man! I'm still in awe.

Ze lucky man

Kodak mo'

'Ullo Gorgeous!

...and Tiffany! I knew I'll get there some day! I was definitely glad to see Tiffany too. Sorry, memory wasn't what it was Tiff. Sudden amnesia.

Peace John

Babes at 42

Zoo Landing

I loved the zoo! It made me feel like a five-year old again. There's something incredibly magical about it. What possibly can be better than looking at wild animals, stripes and fur the entire day? (I'm sure most of our happiest memories are frozen in our childhood. The simple things in life brings joy by the truckloads.)

Pictures are on Mable TV

Sadly, the only pictures that turned out OK were the flamingoes. I'm not quite sure why but I'm spiffing mad. Do hope that the other roll is any better. But rats' tail I'm betting they aren't.

Very Mad Hatter

I love what this article had to say. It's just brilliant! There's nothing more reassuring than a little more insanity in this world. Here's my favourite: "What we are fiinding is there is only a very thin line between the two, a bit like the line between madness and genius." Why be like every other when clearly being a little mad, gets you to the top notch? Exceptional.



The Malay Mail: Thursday, April 28 2005

Fuelling No Joy

I'm here rubbing the temples of my forehead. I don't have a splitting headache, but I'm awfully puzzled.

The world is coming to an end and I'm certain of it.

There's a crowd waiting to fill their motor vehicles up to a frothy brim because petrol prices are increasing. I've never seen cars having to queue up at a petrol stations. I admit - yes - there's always room for a first.

But help me think this one out people...
The price of petrol increases because the theory of economics says there is a high demand and limited supply.
A dwindiling supply defines that resources are running low.
When resources are restricted; and there is little or no substitute, not our crafty little automobile will be nothing better than a massive rubble of useless metal.

So, in other words...
When there is no fuel, we have no kinetic energy.
No movement means no activity.
No activity means no productivity.
No productivity means no employment.
No job is no income.
No income is no spending power.
No spending power means no money.
No money means no food.
No food is no good.


Shit. We're Doomed.

Wine, Women, Song

I had a good reunion at a wedding recently. It was fantastic (despite some interesting comments on my choice of remaining in singledom - read post below). Mainly because it had brought back so many forgotten memories of my uni life. Sweet uncomplicated penniless student days.
The wine was flowing. The women were beautiful (and thankfully so were some men) but the songs were excruciating. Karaoke weddings -- it's a great way to have fun. Yes, indeed. You're never sure if the crowd is laughing with you or at you.
Still - I reckon - if I marry one day (no, I'm not a dyke; yes, I like men; yes, I do want to marry some day but I'm not too worried if I don't; no, i can't say the same about my parents) I would love to have a karaoke wedding. Why? Frankly because people actually do have alot of fun laughing - at and with you. I won't deny it. It's a contagious fun. But I'm going to make it classy and tasteful. And I'm going to make my dad sing a song for me.

So here's a list of things I'd like to have at my wedding: (Hey, every girl is entitled to have wishful thinkings about her own wedding).

I want:
1. A carousel & a band
2. Giraffes & peacocks
3. A garden party with gazebos
4. Fairy lights and ribbons
5. Champagne & crayfish; heck, I'll make it a BBQ
6. A grassy dance floor so I can dance without shoes

YES! I'm going to make mine a carnival!!
So what if it's strange? At least it's a night everyone will remember.

But see? they're all rather simple requests - a good time without getting flustered or frazzled because the hell with it, it's a wedding party. And weddings are suppose to be a fun time for brides and grooms. Not filled with panic attacks or hyperventilation. Leave that to the wedding planner. If you can't afford one - there are always friends. Ekekekekeke... (by the end of it, you won't have any left... kekekekeke)

Having good friends is very much like having the right partner. You're commited to one another for better or for worst. EKEKEKEKEKEKE...

Being a Woman

I was carpooling with two couples to a wedding when:
GirlFriend #1 said: "There are so many weddings to go to this year..."
Me: "Yeah... everybody seems to be getting married."
GF #1: "How do you feel every time you go to one? Doesn't it make you want to marry too?"
Me: (Uh-oh, she's going to start her 'Evils of Being Single' lecture) "Er... I feel happy for them. I'm happy when they're happy."
GF #2: "Eh GF#1, why don't we introduce her to some guys?"
Me: (Getting non-plussed) "If you want to meet more guys, you can go ahead without me. I'm not going to be your excuse."
Everyone: (sympathy laughter) "Hahahaha..."
GF #1: "Do you need lessons on how to be a girl?"
Me: O_o *smiles sweetly* "That's OK. I'll just go have a sex change."


Well, to be fair to GF#1 - she's the type of girl that likes to look good for her boyfriend. Which is fine y'know, because some girls are just brainless like that. I remember she said this to GF #2 once: "If you want to keep your guy, you have to be everything he wants you to be." And I thought, 'gee, how primitive.' Imagine, women are now educated. And with education, we have jobs. With jobs, we have money. And with money, we are financially independant. And yet, with all independence, we have to be everything a guy wants in a PS2 character: boobs, arse & without opinions. And permanent make-up.

I don't get it.

I love being alive. Almost every minute of it. My cousin Adeline is down from Sydney and she's a brilliant person. And I'm thinking, this is what a girl should be. A person with an extraordinary personality. And incredible intelligence. She's a 24-year old who has thought, 'what am I without experience? Let's quit my job, travel around Europe, meet the world, breathe in different cultures and come back with a re-newed spirit. Life is about knowing, learning & living.' This is such an ironic weekend. On one spectrum I meet a girl who thinks the world of her boyfriend (who may or may not marry her); and a girl who has the imagination to know that it's more than incredible just to be alive.

Rather interesting being a woman don't you think?

"P/S: Note: Bittergourd, Bittergourd, Bittergourd"

Bittergourd Collection

Don't forget the laughter, the love, the memories of joy that you have been blessed with when... the days seems full of worries. For they will soon pass.
Don't forget your friends, your family, your dearest when... the days are filled with strangers and loneliness. For they too shall pass.
Don't forget how easy it is to be you when... the days seem a little harsh and judgmental. Because they too shall pass.
For all that will remain in this lifetime are your happy memories. So turn that unfamiliar frown into the endearing smile I know. And all that you fear shall pass.
Love always, Tan.

Hail the Uncontrollable Fatulence Master! m(_ _)m

Funky Lil Monkey

Bryan's little shadow. Bryan's little echo. One day, when no one was looking, he gave Bryan a little black-O. He's a little like Gollum, yes?

Funky Lil Monkey

"Float like a butterfly. Sting like a bee." Little lethal monkey she is... hrmm.. kick like a donkey does she.

Funky Lil Monkey

They drive me wild ... (with love).

Funky Lil' Monkeys

I had lunch with a group of People Who Wants Me Dead (PWWMD) at TGIF. Lunch was big, (so-good-that-it's-) bad and bountiful as usual. Killer (1) My boss (2) My comic EA (3) Birthday Girl who had to stand on the chair and had the whole TGIF singing (4) Mini but Vivace Voce Mich (5) The Council Leader.

People Who Want Me Dead

Comic Models & Faces :-)

Don't believe everything you see in a mag. Lots of preparation goes into a shoot. We get the clothes, choose the clothes, steam 'em, put them on the model, clean 'em and return. JY (pix) adjusts the model's belt so it'll look fancy dandy.

This is what I do almost everyday in my job. This here is a fashion shoot that we did recently for August. We work two months in advance so everything that we do has to be pretty much updated. It isn't hard since trends everywhere and other are usually faster there than it does in Asia. Imitation is a form of flattery. *grin*

This is obviously not my work. But I had it in my PC for awhile now and I've always thought it was beautiful. I have a thing about Buddha sculptures. I'm sure most of you have realised that by now. I'm a culturist. I love anything that has a history. Or a past. Because it always has a story and I've always loved a good one. These are beautiful shots yes?

I'm Currently Loving: Home

by Michael Buble

Another summer day
Is come and gone away
In Paris and Rome
But I wanna go home

Maybe surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel all alone
I just wanna go home
Oh I miss you, you know

And I've been keeping all the letters that I wrote to you
Each one a line or two
"I'm fine baby, how are you?"
Well I would send them but I know that it's just not enough
My words were cold and flat
And you deserve more than that

Another aeroplane
Another sunny place
I'm lucky I know
But I wanna go home
Mmmm, I've got to go home

Let me go home
I'm just too far from where you are
I wanna come home

And I feel just like I'm living someone else's life
It's like I just stepped outside
When everything was going right
And I know just why you could not
Come along with me
But this was not your dream
But you always believe in me

Another winter day has come
And gone away
And even Paris and Rome
And I wanna go home
Let me go home

And I'm surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel alone
Oh, let go home
Oh, I miss you, you know

Let me go home
I've had my run
Baby, I'm done
I gotta go home
Let me go home
It will all right
I'll be home tonight
I'm coming back home

So... You Want To Be a Writer

Often I get people asking me about my job. "Must be interesting" or "SOOoo coool (deliberate drag), I've always wanted to be a writer". There have been a few brave others who have asked me to get them a job in the field. And I always try to but not without this: a word or rather a whole thesis of warning.
The industry does not need anymore deluded, disillusioned people. Here's an email I wrote to someone, who on behalf of her little sister, wanted to know more about journalism.

"In your sister's case - journalism isn't really brain surgery. You can be a queen or pilot or yoga instructor and still be a writer. So basically, it's relatively easy - as long as you're good with words that's really all you need.

I didn't study journalism. I personally believe that people should go study something entirely different from what they want to work as. Although, during my school age, I had very little idea of what I wanted to do.

I started out as an intern for seventeen magazine eventhough I already had a degree in advertising. I decided to intern because 1) I didn't have any experience in journalism and/or magazines 2) I wanted to learn a new trade 3) I had nothing to lose - either I got the job or didn't - I still get my experience. So that's what I would suggest to your sister. Go write to a magazine/ newspaper or whatever publication and express interest and enthusiasm to intern for a month or more (if she has the time). If she doesn't mind non-pay even better because then she'll most likely get the job. Tell her it's lotsa of time wasting as well as hard work. Ironic but true.

After that I was offered a more permanent position which is the lowest of the publishing rank: editorial assistant. Everyone (i.e freshies) starts out here. After that, if the royal editor deems you suitable, you grow up being a writer, then senior writer and maybbbeeee, one fine glorious day, with a stroke of luck (and lotsa butter) an editor.

I will have to tell you that there is NOTHING glamourous about a magazine house. Yes, it may seem so for the first six months but I can frankly tell you, after that, you either run ahead or away. I've met many burnt out writers and they ain't pretty I tell ya. It's alot of hard work and long hours. You'll have no weekends and no sleep. You lose your friends and then your family - and finally, you'll feel entirely alone in the world. I suggest your sister read books like How to Lose Friends and Alienate People by Toby Young and Devil Wears Prada by Lauren Weisberger - which are two very entertaining books my editors passed to me as an eye-opening nighttime read. If that doesn't give your sister nightmares, then good for her. Strongly encourage her to read anything that comes her way fr. newspapers, to financial magazines to gossip magazines. Oh, in real life, editors can send you on assignments and back to the scoreboard 3000 times until you get it right. With red scrawls and crosses.

The perks of the job of course is that you get to see alot of celebrities, and even talk to them. But you eventually realise that they are really just like you and me - human, flesh, snot and snob. You also get to go to alot of launches hence you will know everything and anything in the market two to four months earlier than everyone else. (Note: there will be lots of wine and food - so you may end up drunk and fat) (doesn't necessarily happen to everyone nor in that order). You will occasionally get special superficial VIP treatment from people just because your tag says 'Press' or 'Media'. And you will get lotsa of freebies - ranging from makeup, handbags, tickets to concerts and holiday destination. Prestige comes with years of experience. (Needless to say, my favourite season is Christmas.)

Sadly, I know more people who are in the job for the perks rather than the passion. Believe me, these people are very empty vessels. All talk and no brains. There are as many truth-loving, honest, unique and very interesting writers as there are untalented, greedy, uncreative self-proclaiming ones.

I may sound like I hate the job but I'm just telling you what it's all about - from my observation deck that is. There's a bitter sweet to everything. If you're in KL, then do call me up one day and we'll have chats over coffee. Take care and hope this helps her to make up her mind."

Four Monkeys & an Ah Beng
Charles Wedding: 05

Beach Whales
Ayuthaya: 02

Funny Face
Ayuthaya: 02

Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire

Men have always been in some sort of trouble. But whether or not that they are to be blamed for is a whole different question. Manipulation is a useful tool and can be applied at the most appropriate of times. It’s sometimes also known as ‘emotional blackmail’. For years now, and probably still mysteriously so to men, women have managed to deceive and manipulate all degrees of their affection. Whether it had been sweets from the chubby boy in kindergarten, extra pocket money from dad or a pair of LV shoes from a courting suitor, women-folk have had the magical touch of charming their way into getting things done her way.

Women are natural-borne fighters. But unlike our testosterone-bidding half, we are embedded with a chip of stealth, subtlety and, which what most men fail to own, a perfect sense of timing. Psychology professor and former WAC Captain Gladdy Adams commented, “I studied Russian and German women in WWII and I know the history of ancient woman as warriors. There is nothing more brutal, cruel and cunning than the female in battle. Look through historical accounts from America to Asia to the Africa to the Middle East – men fear women in combat.”

Which goes to show how war strategies are actually the best-to-bag strategies to getting what we want in the most tactful and efficient manner. The oldest military treatise in the world was written by Sun Tzu. Not only is it an intelligent way to approach business competition (which is most popularly known to be used for in the modern age), it can be extremely priceless in the art of manipulation. As the wise general once mentioned, “all warfare is based on deception.”

So when Sun Tzu said: “You may advance and be absolutely irresistible, if you make for the enemy's weak points.”
I say: Know your man’s weakest hours. Men are weakest when distracted like during a football match or upon reaching orgasm. Learn from Charlotte York from one of the episodes in Sex and the City when she caught Harry totally off-guarded with a religious question during sex. She succeeded in reaching her goal if not only for a couple of hours. But unlike men, we have the ability to multitask. Approach your man at the height of his excitement with confidence and practiced-to-perfection charm and tell him you would like to have that new Marc Jacobs handbag (with the $40 000 price tag).

Sun Tzu said: “If we do not wish to fight, we can prevent the enemy from engaging us ... all we need do is to throw something odd and unaccountable in his way.”
I say: As the saying goes: you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. Go for the sugar coated approach rather than being an angry nag. You’ve known since you were six that you can’t change someone with aggression. Silent treatments, threats or guilt trips aren’t going to work up his consciousness to throw out the garbage. Throw him off balance with something totally unexpected. Here’s a bright idea: grill hubby a big fat steak and serve it naked – either way he’s cornered. Sex and food are men’s biggest weakness and also his biggest downfall. If going naked isn’t quite your thing, spice it up a little with a Playboy bunny costume. If that doesn’t do it, wash his car with a little twist – you guessed it – naked. So what if the neighbours are watching? You may draw up a fan club.

Sun Tzu said: “By holding out advantages to him, he can cause the enemy to approach of his own accord; or, by inflicting damage, he can make it impossible for the enemy to draw near.”
I say: We already know from the first two instances that baiting can be a powerful magnetism to capture the ‘enemy’. If all else fails and The Husband starts believing that you are one of the characters in the new horror flick ‘Psychoville’, then prepare to throw guilt-grenades. A report of the Brookings Institution in Washington, D.C., on women and the military stated, “the army has discovered that women throw hand grenades more accurately than men and are better with small arms. Cry, blame, withdraw and then punish him by withholding affection. This usually incites guilt from the ever sex-hungry husband who is probably be oozing with apologies.

Sun Tzu said: “If your opponent is of choleric temper, seek to irritate him. Pretend to be weak, [so] that he may grow arrogant.”
I say: We’ve made films for centuries that brought the love-goddess-child-women out of bored and lonely housewives. Type up the word “Sex Goddess” in google.com and among the few names you’ll find will be Marilyn Monroe and Bridgett Bardot. Would Andie Anderson (Kate Hudson) have succeeded in reducing cocky Ben Barry (Matthew McConaughey) into a blubbering mass of pulp in How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days if she hadn’t cooed and pout? We think not. Flash your Meg ‘honey-I-want-that-dress’ Ryan pout and he’ll soon be flashing his MasterCard. There are some things indeed money can’t buy. Call women love queens or bewitching hags but men have been worshipping the idea of infantile, helpless, emotional, weak, clinging and compliant females as sex objects for centuries. In our helpless child-women ways, he’ll find his silver armour.

Herb Goldberg, Ph.D., author of the New Male-Female Relationship said, “… my wife to whom I’ve been married for 21 years and I were in a restaurant late at night. Some young punk made some remarks to her. She never did tell me exactly what he said. She demanded that I take action. Well, yes, I scared the hell out of him and he ran away. Do you think I enjoyed my meal? I shook all the way through it. I expected a gang of guys to be waiting when we got out. All through the meal I fingered my pocketknife and planned street-fight strategy. Nothing happened. Do I like the macho role? Hell no! But who else is there? I will play any role my wife wants me to play. Though she can do almost anything I can, I’m still the one she looks to for protection.”

The weaker a man perceives you to be, the more he will feel compelled to defend you and to prove himself in order to keep your love. To sum that up, let your man think that there is a fire-breathing dragon at your door. If you play the part of the fainting maiden well enough, you’ll be on your way to Honolulu.

What Sun Tzu never said (well, not in text anyway) was never to underestimate the power of sex. Most women have probably already realized that sex can be sometimes used as a stringed-carrot for men (who we can all agree to be somewhat an ass). We have been granted the gift of control, and needless to say, the power to control men. The fact that we are more of sensual beings rather than sexual ones is seen when we can do without sex for long periods of time. You don’t hear quite as much of a man going on a two-year sexual dry spell compared to a woman do you? Don’t fret honey, dangling your sexuality as a prize pays off more than you’d ever know.

Just one final word of wisdom from the warfare expert (and to be fair to all the poor sweet husbands out there):
Sun Tzu said: “There is no instance of a country having benefited from prolonged warfare.”
I Say: Give your man a break. If it’s movie night and he wants to watch that gory new show that swears and bleeds profusely, then by all means, give it in. There will be other days when you can watch Daniele Steele’s Jewels. Pick up the tab for dinner once in a while or let your husband wear his premium IT t-shirt with socks and slippers if he feels like it. Most important of all, treat him with respect and dignity and not with deception and manipulation. He is an independent, thinking being with his own set of needs and wants – just as you are. Isn’t marriage after all much more pleasant when you’re not at war?

Turkey-ing Out

“I’ve been married with my husband for nearly 15 years and like most marriages it isn’t always a bed of roses. We’ve learnt to compromise but I have to say, there were some incidents where it took more persuasion than usual. For example, my husband has an awful habit of breaking wind nearly every morning. I would beg him to stop ripping or sought medical advice but he wouldn’t hear any of it. He shrugged it off as a natural body function and that was it.

I asked my girl friends on how I could do something with my husband’s eccentric manner when she came up with this idea she found on the Internet.

One early morning while I was preparing the Christmas turkey, I kept the turkey guts aside. I placed the bloody guts in a bowl and quietly walked to the bedroom. I placed all the turkey guts into my husband’s underwear, replaced the covers, tiptoed back to the kitchen and waited.

Several hours later, I heard my husband scream and frantically run to the kitchen. To calm myself down, I’d made myself a cup of tea. When my husband found me sipping my tea at the table he told me something really bad had happened. I forced down my laughter and asked him what was wrong.

He said, “Honey, I need to see the doctor! I farted my guts out!”

Well, at least we got rid of that habit.”

MableTV Life Wishlist

Read somewhere that writing down your life goals can actually help it to materialize. Assuming that this is my favourite down-the-street cafe paper napkin with Girl from Ipanema ringing in the background, I would want to:

1. Go Nepal & Tibet
2. Travel the Silk Road
3. Sit on the Trans-Siberian train
4. Go bungee-jumping
5. Sky dive
6. Be rich
7. and knowledgable
8. Have a wedding BBQ (I love to dance on the grass without shoes!)
9. Travel around South-East Asia to photograph happiness. People are happy albeit having close to nothing.
10. Learn to cure
11. Speak five languages
12. Swim
13. Send letters to God
14. Start an orphanage together with a farm (children and animals sounds like trouble yah?)
15. Have my own talkshow!
16. Meet the Dalai Lama
17. Touch a whale
18. Buy up New York - oh but why not? OK not buy the entire Big Apple but I guess living the life of at least one SATC gal would be sooo nice.
19. Enrich lives - empower women - touch lost souls
20. Fly a plane

Blah

Procrastination got the better of me. I should be shot to death, it would make my life so much easier to live. I decide to spend the last valuable hours of today by reading blogs. I should be writing on Fear Mantras. Blogs of friends, of strangers and semi-friends-semi-strangers. It's actually very fascinating. I wonder if reading them would actually count as my 'reading quota' of today.

Probably not.

But anyway, which brings me to ask you for your opinion. What would you do if you had Time?

Top 10 Things when the molecules of Time and MableTV combines. It sparks:
1. Plenty of thoughts about Life = depression sets in
2. A debate on Love = albeit unanswerable = depression sets in
3. A whole lot of muscle inactivity. I am deduced to blinking and breathing = depression
4. Everyday should be called TGFB (Thank God for Books) = counter depression
5. Unfortunate visits to the masseuer. I am black, blue, green, purple red all over. And I'm NOT exaggerating. (THIS is so I will get better) = physical depression
6. Sing my blessings. I swear I'm an accidental writer. I'm so grateful for that = counter depression
7. Speaking baby gurgles = mental depression
8, 9, 10: I'm too lazy to think = mental overhaul

Live Like You Were Dying

By Tim McGraw

He said, "I was in my early forties, with a lot of life before me
When a moment came that stopped me on a dime
I spent most of the next days, looking at the x-rays
And talking 'bout the options, and talking 'bout sweet time"

I asked him, "When it sank in, that this might really be the real end
How's it hit ya when you get that kind of news
Man, what'd ya do?"
He said

"I went skydiving, I went rocky mountain climbing
I went 2.7 seconds on a bull named Fu Man Chew
And I loved deeper and I spoke sweeter
And I gave forgiveness I'd been denyin"
And he said, "Someday I hope you get the chance
To live like you were dyin"

He said, "I was finally the husband that most the time I wasn't
And I became a friend, a friend would like to have
And all of a sudden, goin' fishing wasn't such an imposition
And I went three times that year I lost my dad
Well I, I finally read the Good Book
And I took a good long hard look
At what I'd do if I could do it all again

Like tomorrow was a gift
And you got eternity to think about what'd you do with it
What would you do with it
What did I do with it
What would I do with it

Copyright (c) 2005 Warner Music (M) Sdn Bhd

Borrowed Time

You've heard every cliche in this world that time is precious. Or something to that effect. But it is easy to forget about time and people and life when things are going for us. The green flow of plenty - life, youth and health. But if we live each day on borrowed time, there is so much that you can see, feel, touch, smell and taste and love because living in debt makes everything sweeter. More treasured.

Love deeper. Sing louder. Speak softer.

Never assume that this life is infinite. It's just a loan from God. So if tomorrow never comes, you'd know you did well. No woulda, coulda, shoulda.